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“I’m sorry,” I sigh, although I’m really not.
Being subjected to his threats is as sensual as being praised by him.
“You remember where the bad patients find themselves.” Theo sinks his thumb in me to the first knuckle as if this isn’t an erotic gesture making my insides melt.
“Outside the clinic,” I breathe as he drags his thumb in and out of me. “I know. I won’t do it again.”
“Good girl.” He pulls out, and I stay there still as a statue.
“Since you said you’ve tried solving it by using fingers.” A squirt sound is followed by a cold liquid running from my lower back to my crack. I gasp but don’t move. “What I’ll do is stretch you some more using three fingers, to help you accommodatesomethingbigger.”
Endorphins surge into my blood, and I soar. The need I have for him, for the depravity Theo offers, consumes my senses, my whole being.
“W-what something?” I can hardly speak while Theo resumes probing me with lube this time.
He’s methodical. Impersonally so.
“Trust me.” He swirls his three fingers inside my ass, then curls them, working on waning my resistance, for me to unclench my ass. “Yes, you’re doing so well. So very well, Ms. Bishop.”
“Thank you.”
There’s no stopping the moan toppling out of my lips. No holding back the tidal wave of arousal. My breasts hang heavy and low, my ass being pleasured the way it never has before. I’m so his. So very much his.
“I think those noises you make mean you’re ready for what comes next.”
I feel hollow when he removes his fingers. Hollow and embarrassed for my carnal reactions.
“I’m sorry.”
“No need to be.” I turn to see him squirting the hand sanitizer on his hands again. “It’s completely natural in this type of exam. At least that’s what I hear from my colleagues in proctology.”
He immerses himself in the game fully, playing the part of the sadistic doctor. And I know this has only been an appetizer for him. He’s going to hurt me before he’ll stitch me back together.
“Hold on to the sides of the table, I’m going to lower it now.”
In my peripheral vision, I see Theo walking to the side of the table, pressing a button. Sure enough, I descend until Theo presses the button again.
He walks up to my face, his pitch-black eyes assessing mine. He doesn’t break the scene, but he’s checking on me. And that makes all the difference.
A slight bob of my head is my silentI’m okay.
Then my eyes gravitate to his groin. I stop breathing for a moment, freaking out about having this huge thing tearing my ass. In seconds, I become the frightened patient who cowers from him once more.
I whimper. His lips twitch.
“Drop to your forearms,” he states in an impassioned tone, spinning to return to stand at the end of the table.
And I, the obedient, cowardly patient, do as he says.
“Very good. It’ll be easier to insert a penis in you from that angle.”
The medical term adds to the scene, to how not-my-Theo he’s being. I’m subjected to this glacial, manipulative physician and fear trickles into my bones.
A thought crosses my mind while I’m open to him like this.
Is this how he deals with his anger toward himself? With his disappointment in himself for not fighting harder for the women at the other hospital?
No, he’d never do that. I don’t know every crevice of Theo’s soul, but I do know he wouldn’t use me as a tool for his healing. He’s here for me and us.
